


a regretful soul

by ahshli



Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: One Shot, Other, Short One Shot, Spoilers, Spoilers - Undertale Genocide Route, Spoilers - Undertale Pacifist Route, Undertale Genocide Route, Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 06:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19289884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahshli/pseuds/ahshli
Summary: Determination alone is a strong thing. What happens when it just isn't enough? The human faced Sans in battle, only to lose time and time again. No matter the amount of determination in their disposal, no results yielded what they had wanted. They had been chilled to the bone, rattled, absolutely petrified into resetting the timeline to restart in hopes to avoid the conflict- simply by being a pacifist.What happens when Sans realizes?





	a regretful soul

**Author's Note:**

> * i legit faced sans in a genocide run only to reset after 'getting dunked on' to do a pacifist run to see if he says anything different, or if gameplay at all changes.  
> * i was kinda disappointed with lack of references so i added it to sans' perspective.  
> * one shot, enjoy.  
> * (in my own copy, i gave each character their respective fonts :,( so sad it wont convey here, sorry!)  
> * ((and yes the first paragraphs repeat to add to the feel. but the gist is relatively the same, but there are subtle differences!)

Unseen before, unprecedented by anything he’s encountered, unbelievable until this very moment, he sees something glimmer in their eyes. Behind all the muck, behind the thick curtain of genocide is a glimmer of fear. Of embarrassment. Outshining all of that is, however, determination.

They wipe the sweat off their brow, a step forward to lean into a defense stance. They narrow their eyes, hiding what Sans had just witnessed. They had lived this all before. They had killed off, one by one, like wilting petals on a flower, every monster in the underground and had stood to face him, expectations to walk away without a scratch. But he had made a dent in that plan, he had become an obstruction to them that maybe, just maybe, he can have them turn around and never come back. 

“That’s the face of someone who’s died to me once already.” The words escape, echoing off the walls of the long corridor, shadows descending on the two, staring silently at each other. Sans cannot believe it, perhaps he’s imagining it? Their eyes widened oh so slightly, as if stunned with his presumptuous remark. The human lunged forward, Sans readying up his strongest attack.

Unseen before, unprecedented by anything he’s encountered, unbelievable until this very moment, he sees something glimmer in their eyes. Behind all the muck, behind the thick curtain of genocide is a flash of fear. Of anger. Outshining all of that is, however, determination.

They wipe the sweat off their brow, a step forward to lean into an eager defense stance. They dart their eyes, hiding what Sans had just witnessed. They had lived this all before. They had killed off, one by one, like dying petals on a flower, every monster in the underground and had stood to face him, expectations to walk away without a scratch. But he had flawed that plan, he had become an obstruction to them that maybe, just maybe, he can have them turn around and never come back. 

Sans peers deeper into their eyes, noting exasperation. He thinks silently to himself. They know something that he doesn’t. They know something much more that he doesn’t, in fact.

“That’s the face of someone who’s died to me… twice already.” The words escape, echoing off the walls of the long corridor, shadows descending on the two, staring silently at each other. Sans cannot believe it, perhaps he’s imagining it? Their eyes widened enough to notice, as if angered with his presumptuous remark. The human lunged forward, Sans readying up his strongest attack.

Unseen before, unprecedented by anything he’s encountered, unbelievable until this very moment, he sees something glimmer in their eyes. Behind all the muck, behind the thick curtain of genocide is a glare of anger, of pure frustration.

They wipe the sweat off their brow, a step forward to lean into a sloppy defense stance. They close their eyes and shake their head, hiding what Sans had just witnessed. They had lived this all before. They had killed off, one by one, like desiccated petals on a flower, every monster in the underground and had stood to face him, expectations to walk away without a scratch. But he had obliterated that plan, he had become an obstruction to them that maybe, just maybe, he can have them turn around and never come back. 

Sans peers deeper into their eyes, noting exasperation. He thinks silently to himself. They know something that he doesn’t. They know something so much more that he doesn’t, in fact. 

“That’s the face of someone who’s died to me… three times already.” The words escape, echoing off the walls of the long corridor, shadows descending on the two, staring silently at each other. Sans cannot believe it, perhaps he’s imagining it? An inhumane scream snaps him out of his thoughts, as the human lunged forward. Surely that is an indicator of him hitting the right note. Sans readies up his strongest attack.

“Sans! Wake up, lazy bones! Nyeh heh heh… Proud of that one!” 

He plasters on his comical smile that is recognizable as his brother’s voice that startled him out of his nap. He must’ve dozed off while on the hunt for humans. As relenting as his brother was to prove himself worthy of the Royal Guard, he was also determined, something Sans himself has lost the ability to feel so a while back. Seeing it in his brother makes him smile, smile genuinely, something he hasn’t done for a while as well, at least, brought out himself. An idea a long time ago had been the source for all this slack within his mind, that had him drop all things at once and take a deep breath- there’s something bigger than him, than his brother, than the entire underground. Something that he can never ever get to the bottom to. Something that no matter how hard he tried, it will all be erased in the end. He cannot for the life of him remember what it was… Who it was… When or where. He just knows the depression in his ribs codes that life is seemingly meaningless until he can discover the point of it. And so far, his efforts have been fruitless. 

“sorry papyrus, just dreaming about some grub.” he confides, dismissing the growing pit to be of hunger and not of the unknown. His brother gives a dirty look as they resume to keeping a lookout for humans. Not that they have encountered any. Or ever will.

“hey pap, i’m going for a walk thataway,” he throws some phalanges towards the west, the winding snow-filled path leading to the ruins, abandoned and presumably empty. Presumably. Sans and him alone know the truth but… presumably to the outsiders. 

Wind howls as if beckoning Sans to stay, but he nonetheless places his hands into his pockets, ignoring all the wary breezes. His brother gives a few grunts of disapproval but nothing to combat his choice of shuffling off. 

Truthfully, Papyrus has no proof for this conclusion, but he’s felt distant from his own brother. He knows they go out to eat at their favorite burger joint every week and remain in close contact otherwise with work and home, however… something’s not right. But he just doesn’t have anything to compare it to what is right. It has always been this way for all he knows but his instinctual loneliness presides over the logical stance that everything is normal. This loneliness drives him to get into the Royal Guard, thus letting him get out of his brothers’ bones for a while… Something ominous radiates from Sans, like he’s always calculating something in his head. Papyrus shakes his head, stopping any thoughts that might turn tides he doesn’t want to turn, as he watches Sans, hands in parka, walking away.

A loud creaking noise fills the forest, startling Sans. He reacts by jumping into the nearby shrubs, looking onward to what happened. A strange monster, unfamiliar to him, walks slowly, afraid, fearful, horrified. Their eyes are not filled with the kind of terror associated with the unknown but what is known. Sans involuntarily takes a step forward towards them, something about them clicking his conundrum that he has been facing for so long. The key has to reside in this… 

It’s a human. Once he got a closer look, the defined nose, separated fingers, the bipedalism, the stature, the aura. No doubt about it. He watches them, something getting his soul pounding, blood rushing throughout his body, an overwhelming feeling flooding him until he cannot even move, as he just watches the human with growing anticipation. He must act quickly. 

“H u m a n. . .” Sans approaches from behind, puffing his chest out, a growling voice emitted. Before he had time to even react, the human turns around and reaches out their hand, frightened. How did they know to grasp his hand? A whoopee cushion going off wimpishly. As he stares into the eyes of the human, his mind whirs. Surely this human couldn’t have known to grab his hand like that. Unless they know Sans, full of his tricks. But the thing is, this human cannot know Sans. He has no idea where they could’ve get to know him.

Or when. They know something he doesn’t, as shown with his little stunt. Sans thinks rapidly. Time-travel? A smile spreads across his face, looking as if he’s laughing at the trick rather than the silly conclusion he was left with. Time travel? How preposterous.

“whoopee-in-the-hand trick… never gets old.”

The human gives a wobbly smile, then replaces it back with their initial look of hidden fear. Sans breaks the tension, trying to further his insight into the figure in front of him. 

“hey, so, my brother wants to capture a human… it would mean the world to him if you played along.” The human nods and darts off, leaving Sans to watch their retreating figure. Sans cocks his head, thinking, thinking, thinking… If this human were a time-traveller… what would they have done to be so afraid of him? The only thing he can think of is… if Sans had done something. The thing is though, he doesn’t do anything, ever. He can’t even think of a time when he would do something, taking a break from doing nothing (something he loves). 

Perhaps, it’s a time where something unthinkable had occurred, something he can’t fathom with his normal state of mind. He stares a bit longer at the human, analyzing their back as they disappear from the view. He grasps it, as his mind whirrs. This human had done something unthinkable, as simple as that.

Encounters like these continued, all throughout the human’s journey. They had anticipated every single move that everyone made, in Snowdin, by the waterfalls, in Hotlands… They had known each line of dialogue, each puzzle, each enemy and how to successfully maneuver away from them, without killing them. But that was the thing, Sans determined, staring into the eyes of the human in the judgement hall. The aura radiating from them, the determination… It’s too strong. Almost as if… they had already got what they deemed to be worth the most determination of them all… letting the underground go empty. Sans goes over his options. They had not earned a single execution point, have not gained any levels of violence… they had avoided all conflict and stood meekly in front of Sans, awaiting to be judged. However, Sans knows something is up. He breaks the prolonged silence, finally putting all the pieces together.

“your determination. it’s not just a feeling residing in that human soul of yours now, is it?” The human lifts their head, their eyes pointing directly at Sans’ own. He cocks a grin, crossing his arms. “it allows you to manipulate time itself. you are a time traveler, aren’t you?”

Sans nods softly to himself with that grin plastered onto his face, noting the human’s faltering gaze, turning away from him. Sans analyzes the trajectory of the tilt, the narrowed eyes, the trembling lip. “not only that… you did something completely different from your actions as of now.”

The human perks up and smiles. They keep quiet though, as if they don’t want to indulge in this fantasy of Sans’, however they want to continue with what he’s possibly theorizing. Sans has no clue whether or not he’s on the right path but he for sure knows the human wasn’t. He knows the human had caused a lot of pain and suffering, for that is the only way for them to be afraid of Sans- that he had to step in to stop them.

“you had to…fight me. and i won… two times?” The human scoffed. Sans corrected himself noting that new adjustment. “no. three. then you had lost determination. that quickly? buddy. i would’ve expected more.” He chuckles to himself. The human continues to stare, their internalized panic increasing evermore.

A pause settles in the judgement hall. Sans, as lazy as people perceive him, has a moral compass one cannot refute. But this is unseen before, unprecedented by anything he’s encountered, unbelievable until this very moment. This person had done something so grave that endangered the entire underground to the point he had to fight them in another timeline. The logistics is that… this is the timeline they’re in. And this human had no execution points, had not leveled in violence. Thus, he shouldn’t have any problem letting the human go. He looks at them one more time, noting the exasperation, almost as they had meticulously taken this path to avoid confrontation with Sans. 

“so… you redid everything to avoid me judging you harshly. i can’t argue with you there, you didn’t hurt a fly this go-around. meaning you can finally finish your journey.” All the tension, all the fear, all the overall hanging dread on the human had been lifted, allowing them to stand visibly straighter, smile a little more, eyes crinkling in almost satisfaction. They nod assertively towards Sans, almost a certain redemption in their eyes. As they walk past, Sans grabs a hold of their wrist and without batting an eye, chills them with: “I w i l l f i n d o u t i f y o u c o m e b a c k . Y o u ‘ r e n o t t h e o n l y o n e w i t h d e t e r m i n a t i o n .” 

And with that, he’s gone.


End file.
